


To Pick a Pansy

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-01
Updated: 2008-03-01
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10809432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: How Pansy enters into her unhealthy relationship with Draco."Of course, the obvious solution would have been to break things of with Draco, to cut him out of her life so completely that he may as well have been on another planet. And she tried. But it didn’t work. It could never work."





	To Pick a Pansy

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

“ _What?_ ” Pansy shrieked, the left side of her nose scrunched up in disgust and horror as she stared at her best friend.

 

“Come on. It’s no big deal. And,” he leaned in close to her, as though about to tell her a secret, “when we go to Hogwarts, I’ll make sure _you’re_ the most popular girl in Slytherin.”

 

Pansy’s expression relaxed slightly. Her parents wanted so badly for her to be popular. There was hardly anything else they discussed with her.

 

“Really?” she asked in a small voice.

 

“Really,” Draco said earnestly, nodding his head.

 

“Well…all right then,” Pansy whimpered tentatively, shyly, as she leaned forward slightly and their lips met. 

 

The kiss was awkward and dry, their mouths closed and hands by their sides. Finally, after counting off ten hippopotamuses Pansy felt Draco pull away.

 

“So, it’s settled then. You’re my girlfriend.”

 

“Wha…I-I don’t know,” Pansy stuttered, still startled by her first kiss and trying to get a grasp on the all-too-large concept of having a boyfriend.

 

“Good.” Even at ten, Draco had a certain cockiness to him that allowed him to dominate those around him. He took her hand in his decisively and kissed her again.

 

-

 

Pansy and Draco were sitting next to each other on one of the silk green couches in the deserted Slytherin Common Room, kissing each other fervently, when Draco’s hand reached for the bottom clasp on her robe. 

 

Pansy broke the kiss. “What are you doing?”

 

“Don’t worry. You’ll like this,” Draco replied simply as he pressed Pansy’s lips back to his. 

 

Pansy stiffened but kissed back halfheartedly. It was clear that she was more focused on the hand that was slowly stroking her bare knee than on kissing her boyfriend. 

 

After a few moments, Draco’s slim fingers trailed up her slender thigh, closer and closer to the point where her legs collided. 

 

Pansy’s heart started thumping loudly in her chest. She didn’t know what to do.

 

“Please, Draco-” her words were muffled by his insistent lips. She leaned back into the armrest, trying to break the contact, but he just went down with her. 

 

His fingers were now lightly stroking her, pushing the cotton of her panties aside. 

 

Pansy whimpered and drew her lips into her mouth, turning her face away. She didn’t like the strange sensations he was causing to rush through her.

 

“What’s the matter?” Draco asked with little compassion in his voice as his free hand turned her face back to his.

 

“I’m not sure I want this,” Pansy squirmed uneasily, still not looking at Draco.

 

“Come on, it’ll feel good,” he kissed her again and this time she didn’t turn away, though she didn’t reciprocate, either. 

 

He kept making small circles against her, and she felt herself being filled with a strange emotion that gripped her with all its force; she was torn between the fear and newness of everything and the magnetic pull of her hips to his hand. What was happening? It was like her center was sending waves of…good…coursing through her body, turning her red lips out from inside her mouth to reach Draco’s. His touch seemed to be inversely proportional to her apprehension; the longer he made those little circles, the less she cared about what was happening. Her pleasure started to build from inside her stomach and she felt herself pushing down onto her boyfriend’s hand while probing his mouth with her tongue. Her hands roamed his back as he quickened the pace. She’d never felt so connected to him, so dependant on him for anything other than social status; she felt as though he held her entire being in the hand that was stroking her below her stomach, and if he stopped, she just might fall into oblivion.

 

And then, it happened. Pansy didn’t know what it was, but her whole body started convulsing and her mind went dark like somebody extinguished the lights, along with any other sounds in the room. She heard a moan from somewhere but couldn’t be sure if it was really her. At her center was the thrill of a thousand silent, exploding fireworks and all she could feel was Draco grinding his fingers into her…And then her eyes opened and she found herself still underneath Draco in the Slytherin Common Room, his hand still beneath her and his mouth on hers, the weight of his body on top of her, and she felt guilty all of a sudden. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to be swept up in that…whatever it was, like a common whore.

 

When she stopped shaking slightly, Draco slowly got off her and sat up, a small smirk on his face. 

 

Pansy found she couldn’t make her eyes meet his – partly because her vision was slightly blurred by emotion– and her cheeks felt hot like she’d just stepped inside out of a blizzard.

 

“So…?” He looked at her expectantly.

 

“What?” Pansy asked in a cavalier fashion, brushing her hair out of her face and meeting his eyes for a second.

 

“Don’t play dumb. I know I made you come,” Draco replied smugly.

_Come. She’d come. An orgasm. That’s what it was._ Pansy swallowed hard, more guilt welling up inside her. “I did _not._ ” She was never a very good liar.

_How could other people enjoy this? To have no control – there couldn’t be very many things on the planet scarier – or more embarrassing – than that._

 

Draco shrugged. “I’m going to bed.”

 

As soon as Pansy was surrounded by the cool comfort of her familiar sheets, she finally stopped shaking and her eyes expelled the first of many tears.

 

-

 

Several days swept by, the time moving along quickly with the exception of the few moments that Draco would touch her, which ground by at an agonizingly slow pace. Once, he’d even put his finger inside her. She’d never felt so violated in her life, partially because that time she came faster than ever before. Every day, he would force her to become a lifeless puppet in his hand, controlled by the most sensitized movements. And the worst part was that as soon as she felt his skin against her knee, she wanted it, but by the time night rolled around, she would tell herself that the next day, no matter what happened she wouldn’t let Draco touch her. It never worked. Somehow, as soon as they made contact in that critical way, she melted, and all her protests could have been a gentle summer breeze attempting to knock over Hogwarts itself. 

 

Then one day, Draco found a way to make her feel even lower.

 

“Hey, I was wondering, maybe since I do this for you so often, you could…reciprocate…in some way.” He was stroking her slowly and gently after a particularly powerful, and thereby particularly unwanted, orgasm. 

 

Pansy couldn’t seem to find her voice, but she knew she was ready to do anything to get his hand away from her soaked underwear, leave her to her own shame, unconnected to the man that brings it.

 

“I, I dunno,” she stammered, looking down, something she’d taken to doing more and more often. She felt that if he could do such powerful things to her body, no matter how much she willed them not to happen, he could do anything.

 

“Come on.” He nudged her. 

 

Pansy just nodded. 

 

Draco took her hand in his and led it to the lower clasp on his school robe. 

 

With a gently trembling hand, Pansy undid the button and instantly went to his belt. No use prolonging the inevitable, she told herself as she quickly undid it and heard her own fingers unzipping his fly. It was when her fingers made connection with the zipper that she felt… _it._ She’d heard that guys get “hard” when aroused, but she didn’t know that it actually felt like a rock, only warmer and wrapped in something soft. When her soft fingers grazed his still clothed, hardened member, she almost pulled away in surprise. Almost.

 

Pansy had never seen a penis before, and so had nothing with which to compare Draco’s member to, but it seemed huge and foreign to her; swollen and hard as stone, the pink flesh like velvety butter in her hand. Carefully, she ran her hands up and down the length a few times. She had no idea what she was doing and felt her cheeks redden when Draco smirked.

 

“No, I was thinking something…different.”

 

Pansy just looked at him, perplexed. She knew he couldn’t mean sex. They were only thirteen. What did he want?

 

“Try…this,” he said softly as he gently took Pansy’s arm in his hand and nudged her off the couch. 

 

Pansy consented numbly, allowing him to position her onto her knees in front of him. And then, when her face was only inches from him, it hit her; he wanted her to take it _in her mouth_. Pansy almost gagged. Who could do something so disgusting? She was about to stand up when she felt the gentle pressure of Draco’s hand on the back of her head, goading her on. Pansy resisted. 

 

He pressed harder. 

 

She didn’t even bother anymore. Closing her eyes in shame, Pansy opened her mouth and leaned forward.

 

“Ok, now just…do what f-feels, uh, right.” Draco was already fading into the land of ecstasy. “Just careful with the t-teeth.” was all he managed to sigh before slinking back against the couch.

 

Pansy started by tentatively licking the head, which seemed to please him, but after a while the pressure on the back of her head increased. 

 

He really wanted her to put it _in_ her mouth. 

 

Slightly horrified, with tears stinging her eyes, she obliged…

 

Pansy wanted to gag. She didn’t know how to breathe in that position. Taking in air through her nose didn’t even occur to her, and she felt like she was about to suffocate. What was even worse, was that after a while (Pansy didn’t know how long, but knew that her jaw was starting to grown sore) he…exploded. Something warm flooded her mouth and her first instinct was to jump back and spit it out.

 

What was that?

 

Draco weakly stroked Pansy’s head as though she was a dog that just performed a trick. 

 

He yawned. “Good girls swallow.” Then he got up and, without another word, went to bed.

 

Pansy remained in her kneeling position for another few moments, shocked. So after all that, it still wasn’t enough. She could still taste the paste on her tongue.

 

The worst part, however, was that somewhere in the back of Pansy’s mind, she knew that next time she would do her best not to let one drop out of her mouth.

 

-

 

It was Christmas of that very year. Draco had gone home to his family and Pansy thought they were going to the south of France, but couldn’t be sure; she didn’t talk with Draco much anymore. If fact, Pansy couldn’t remember a time with Draco within the past few months where she wasn’t on her knees. At least he stopped touching her as often; he used those evil hands more as reminder of his control than an assertion. As long as she kept sucking him off, he could go several days on end without reaching between his girlfriend’s legs.

 

Pansy’s parents decided to go to Italy that year, so Pansy chose staying in Hogwarts instead of an empty manor full of cold maids. For the first few days of vacation, Pansy was happy. She felt like she was out of Draco’s clutches. But then, one night, lying alone in bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She knew that after every time he made her come, she felt terrible, but when she was alone in her cold, dark bed, without those wounds being quite so fresh, those unpleasant aftereffects vanished; she wanted to be touched, she could only remember the orgasms. Though she never wanted him to touch her when he was there, as soon as Draco was gone, Pansy found herself missing him. 

 

And so, for the first time in her life, Pansy’s very own fingers made their way to her inner thighs…

 

She still felt filthy afterwards, even though Draco was nowhere in sight. And so she cried, yet again.

 

-

 

“You have really beautiful legs,” Draco whispered in Pansy’s ear shortly after Christmas break in the middle of History of Magic.

 

Pansy couldn’t help blushing. “Thanks.” Maybe there’s hope for him yet. Maybe the cruelty was all imagined.

 

Draco’s hand strayed to the bottom clasp of her robes. 

 

Heat and fear prickled within her when the thought occurred to her that he might start fingering her in the middle of class, but it subsided when she realized his hand wasn’t straying from her knee.

 

He made a soft mewing noise as he smiled warmly at her. “I love your legs. They’re gorgeous.”

 

Pansy felt oddly naked with her robe unbuttoned from the waist down, even though she was in a pleated skirt underneath it.

 

Finally, Draco pulled his hand away, a conceited smirk tarnishing his features at the shaking fingers that lay on Pansy’s desk. 

 

She was looking at the floor and her cheeks were a deep shade of purple. Her chest rose and fell in dramatic movements, and Draco didn’t know if this was in anger or humiliation, or both, and it didn’t particularly matter to him.

 

Several minutes passed in which Professor Binns’s droning voice didn’t even register in Pansy’s head. All she could hear was the blood throbbing in her temples. More than anything, her hands ached to button up her robe, not because she felt exposed but because she felt controlled. But her hands wouldn’t move. Though she didn’t want to accept it, part of her knew that she would be spending a long time with her robe unbuttoned.

 

It was at lunch that very day that Draco recommended that Pansy roll her skirt up several times. 

 

She obeyed timidly, but almost immediately. What had she to lose at that point? 

 

Two periods later in the halls, Pansy distinctly heard five comments directed at her in murmured tones that involved the word “slut”. And that night, right after she gave Draco the oral sex he loved so very much, heavy, stifled sobs wracked her body in the girls’ lavatory before bed – she didn’t want to wake her roommates up because she knew that that night she wouldn’t be able to make the tears fall quietly.

 

-

 

It was year four. Pansy had stopped rolling her skirt up for Draco. Instead, she had it shortened to the point that it barely covered her upper thighs. Her blouse was always unbuttoned until it was just about barely covering her bra, and her robe was never buttoned. The only teacher that gave her any grief about it was McGonagall, and even she had a sort of sympathy about her when she talked to Pansy. Most girls despised Pansy, calling her a slut and far worse behind her back, or, hell, even to her face, or spreading vicious rumors sparked by Draco himself. She received cruel comments in the halls, or at the very least icy, superior glances. She went back and forth between periods of self-pity and sorrow, and uncaring numbness. Either way, she was never happy, and either way, a bitter edge seeped into her thoughts; everything was seen through cynical glasses, altered by an unbiased hatred for everything and everybody, sometimes even herself.

Of course, the obvious solution would have been to break things of with Draco, to cut him out of her life so completely that he may as well have been on another planet. And she tried. But it didn’t work for two reasons. The first was obvious; she really had nobody else in the whole world. Her parents were cold and her friends uncaring. But that wasn’t enough to keep them together. So she would sometimes try to end things. She would summon her entire arsenal of strength, replaying his most manipulative moments in her head, over and over. She would approach him, standing tall, and he would sense that she was about to do something brave and independent. And he would kiss her so gently and so lovingly that Pansy didn’t even remember why she was mad at him in the first place. He was just a good boyfriend that wanted to make her feel good. Everybody went down on others. And then he would whisper something sweet and sugary in her ear that she knew was a lie but she absorbed like a sponge anyway.

 

And somehow, through everything, Pansy loved the feeling of Draco’s arm around her shoulders when they were among friends in the common room. At those moments when they weren’t alone, she felt for the first time in her life that _somebody_ was proud to have her as something. Her parents were never proud to have her as a daughter, and the only times they seemed pleased with her was when they found out about her and Draco, and that she had created a friendship – however superficial – with Daphne Greengrass. At least when his arm was around her tightly, Pansy felt that Draco was proud to have her as a girlfriend. And just then, it would seem worth it, no many how many tears leaked out of her later.

 

-

 

“Hey, Pansy?” He was in a soft, gentle mood, and for once, they were alone and Draco wasn’t unbuttoning his knickers. Pansy felt loved.

 

“Yes?”

 

“What would you think about us having sex?” Oh. So that’s why his head was on roughly the same level as hers. He was waiting to make her feel safe and happy with him to bring up the sensitive topic. And it was sensitive, more sensitive than he could know – Pansy’s virginity seemed like the one thing she was still in control of.

 

“N-n-no.” This was her worst nightmare coming true before her eyes. She had dreamed of this happening, and in her dreams he was just as gentle as he was now, using honey-sweet words to detract from the bee’s sting.

 

“Hey, come on. It’ll feel so good.” He took her chin in his hand and kissed her softly. 

 

Inwardly, Pansy cursed herself for responding to his lips.

 

“No.” Her voice was starting to crack, but at the same time she sounded sure. It was the one thing, the _one thing_ …

 

“Pansy. Listen to me. I really care about you. I want this to happen for the both of us. I really…” He looked down.

 

Despite everything, Pansy’s heart melted. Then she looked down at her bared legs and her blood curdled. “Draco…” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling. 

 

He could tell she was about to cave. 

 

“I don’t think I want…” She lost her voice in mid-sentence. “Please.” Her voice was barely audible.

 

Draco just kissed her gently. “Meet me here tomorrow at midnight. I’ll make sure it’s empty.”

 

“Draco, will it really…I don’t know…be…good?” She raised eyes full of hurt to him.

 

He smiled at her lovingly, stroking her cheek. “Of course. It’ll be amazing.”

 

Pansy wasn’t convinced, but his display of kindness was enough to propel her down to stairs to the common room the next night.

 

-

 

Pansy stared at herself in the mirror. Her skin was ashy and her body bony underneath her skimpy school robes. Her hair was plain and mousy and her features nothing out of the ordinary. There were dark circles under the eyes that matched the hollowness she was feeling in her stomach. In an hour, she would no longer be a virgin. Sadness and fear were gnawing at the numbness like water eroding a cliff. Daphne told her of how she’d lost her virginity. According to her, it was “the best thing in the entire universe” (with Nott). Pansy grimaced at the thought that it would never be that way for her. Because it was too late to back out now, and she knew that she could never enjoy anything sexual with Draco Malfoy. Slowly, she buttoned up her robe, knowing full well that it would be undone later that night, but liking the feeling of some sort of protection from him…

 

She came downstairs first, which she found ironic seeing as how she was the less willing participant in this…event. She didn’t have to wait long, though; Draco came down not ten minutes later.

 

“Hey,” he said softly, half-smirking, half-smiling at her. He pecked her quickly on the lips, a kiss she didn’t return, and they sat down next to one another. He started kissing her as his hands went to her robes, undoing the clasps and letting it slide down her arms. The buttons on her blouse came next, popping out of their loops quickly and efficiently. Pansy whimpered as the constricting cotton slipped down her shoulders. 

 

As far as she’d gone with Draco, he had yet to see her breasts. It was something she wasn’t looking forward to; she liked having something that didn’t belong to Draco’s eyes and hands. 

 

Oh well. Her bra was gone within seconds. Draco kneaded her breasts roughly, almost painfully, grasping them in a way to increase only Draco’s pleasure. She was a rag doll in his hands, and so kept perfectly still as his hands went to her skirt, and then her underwear.

 

Then he quickly stripped and got on top of her. The tip of his cock nudged against her opening, and he gave a shove. 

 

And then Pansy couldn’t remember anything but pain; quick, blinding pain that faded to a sharp ache deep inside her. She remembered the rough grain of the couch as it rubbed against her back, chafing her. Her eyes shut tight against the pain, shriveled up within herself, her face turned away from him, not wanting to see his lust filled eyes as he pumped into her. Her lags lay on either side of Draco, limp like the rest of her body, letting him use her, rub her raw with himself, ejaculate inside her, then collapse on top of her and not let her breathe.

 

His breathing was heavy. “That was amazing,” he finally panted in a thrilled voice. “We should do that more often.” His shirt was already flung over his arms and he was buttoning it up.

 

Pansy remained silent, staring off to the side, shocked. She felt completely empty, a guilty pang in her stomach and a dull ache below that the only reminders that she was alive.

 

-

 

After that, Pansy’s life was nothing more than a monotonous drone. She fell into a flawless routine; get up, go to class, be insulted, do some homework if she was in the mood, have dispassionate sex with Draco, and go to bed. The only source of excitement in her life would be if Draco wanted a quickie between classes. She always felt dirty, she barely ate, and still she couldn’t dream of letting Draco go, despite that she gradually became afraid to even look into his eyes, knowing that they would never shed the same tears hers did.

 

One of the things that did make her happy, or at least calm, however, was going down to the lake after sex with Draco. Having her own little secret made her feel like she was still in possession of something that Draco didn’t know about. It was when on her way back to the common room after one of these walks that _it_ happened.

 

At first she thought she’d imagined it, or that perhaps it was a mouse or somebody in a portrait, but it repeated itself, the tiniest of squeaks, repeated over and over. She backtracked to the point where she could hear the squeaking best and realized it was coming from an empty classroom. Curiosity pulled at her. Slowly, carefully, she opened the door a crack and peeked inside, only to be completely scandalized by what was there. A boy in pajamas was standing upright and thrusting deeply into a girl that lay on the table before him. The squeaking was coming from the straining, old wood of the desk on which she lay, silently writhing in pleasure. There was hardly any light and Pansy could barely make out their silhouettes. She was about to turn around and go to bed when she heard it. Between to extra forceful squeaks, the boy groaned. She recognized that groan as the distinct sound Draco made right before he came. Pansy stood frozen to the spot in shock and disgust.

 

“Fuck,” he growled as the movements stopped.

 

A feminine sigh reached Pansy’s ears, followed by a small giggle. “Thanks, babe.” Pansy had no problem making Daphne’s voice out. 

 

He helped her off the desk and they were heading out of the room. 

 

Still frozen, Pansy scrambled back against the opposite wall, the strength to run evaporating. She felt lightheaded, about to faint. She gripped the cold stone walls as supports. It was dark, so thankfully, they didn’t notice her as they slipped out of the room. Pansy was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when her sweating hand slipped from the rock and she fell over, her side hitting the floor loudly and a groan of pain escaping her lips.

 

“Lumos!” Daphne yelped, obviously frightened by the sudden racket. 

 

Fresh fear flooded Pansy as she stared up at the faces of her boyfriend and best friend. 

 

After Daphne realized who it was, her features softened into a satisfied smirk. “Hey, Pan. How goes it?” She tossed her hair over one shoulder.

 

Pansy just stared up at her, and then looked at Draco. 

 

He looked calm, even slightly annoyed. He sighed and touched Daphne lightly on the shoulder, signaling her to leave. When her footsteps faded away, Draco put one hand under each of Pansy’s armpits and effortlessly picked her up, supporting her against the cold wall. 

 

Pansy’s head rolled over to one shoulder. She felt so weak, and now there was nausea in her throat.

 

“Hey,” Draco tried to explain. “Pansy, listen. It was just a one time thing. I-I was just going for a walk and Daphne stopped me. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m so sorry.” His eyes were pleading with her, and she was losing what little strength she had rapidly.

 

“Please take me to my room,” she said hoarsely.

 

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

 

“My room…”

 

“Please. Just say we’re okay.”

 

Pansy just mewed. “Please, Draco. Let me sleep. Please. _Please._ ” She was losing consciousness quickly.

 

“Say we’re fine. Say you forgive me.”

 

Pansy let out a dry, desperate sob. “I forgive you.”

 

Draco smirked and picked her up easily. She could have sworn she’d heard him murmur “slut” before her eyes shut and she passed out in his arms.

 

He brought her to her bed. And the next day, when Pansy woke up and remembered what happened, she vomited and went to see Draco at breakfast, smiling with his friends and letting him hold her hand. She and Daphne stopped talking after that night, but otherwise it was like nothing ever happened.

 

-

-

-


End file.
